Take the Shot
by Fire Sage
Summary: "I am the product of misfortune and circumstance." (Repost/Rework)
1. One Late November Morning

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice (because if I did it would never be cancelled)._**

**_A/N: Soooo...I've been working on this on and off since I took it down a few months ago and decided to repost it. This is based off of Young Justice and not so much the Invasion Arc in later 2011-2016 just to clarify._**

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Late November in Star City was like any other. The weather was getting colder, the nights were longer, and people were beginning to break out their winter coats to greet Jack Frost when he came to stay.

Roy Harper, the average guy by day and the red clad vigilante Red Arrow by night, didn't care about any of that. All he cared about right now was getting a cup of coffee and was pretty pissed off that when he woke up that morning from patrol not only had he forgot to turn on his automatic coffee pot, that promised hot coffee for him when he got up, but the coffee tin in his cabinet was not coffee tin filled with coffee but a coffee tin filled with lies.

Was it so much to ask that when he** _finally_** got some sleep after protecting the city all night that he had a fresh, hot pot of coffee waiting for him when he got up?!

Apparently it was. So after angrily throwing the empty tin at his kitchen wall (a gesture, he admits, was a little uncalled for) Roy got dressed in civilian clothes and trudged out of the apartment he lived in alone and into the streets.

His feet guided him mindlessly the couple of blocks to a coffee shop he knew about. After living in the area for about four months he knew the neighborhood pretty well by now.

When Roy quit being Green Arrows partner (or sidekick or whatever he was) and decided to go solo he had also moved out of the Queen Estate.

At first, Ollie had tried to talk him out of it, both going solo and moving out. His mentor and surrogate father told him that they were a team and that he need Roy by his side. _"You mean behind you! Not by your side!"_ Roy mentally flinched at the harsh words, and many more like them, that he had spit at the older man.

He had just been…angry, hurt. All those years of training and perfecting, protecting Star City alongside and even on his own sometimes when GA wasn't around, to be dismissed so readily to the kiddy table for the "Big Kids" to decided when he was _worthy_ of joining their ranks.

When Green Arrow saw that he was serious he gave him his space. He was great about that. Whenever Roy was angry or upset, Ollie gave him all the space and stuff to break he needed to calm down. And when he was done acting like a brat Ollie would be there when he came back, never bring it up again, and they would move on.

But now, Roy was certain he had burned that bridge along with many others in his need to prove himself to everyone.

Ollie had a new misguided youth under his wing. She had apparently been an excellent addition to the team he refused to join. His perfect replacement.

Roy kicked a rock that was in his path, but didn't have the heart to follow through with the anger he felt. He had done this to himself and he couldn't see the point in being angry over something he had willingly done or had no plan of changing. He made his bed and now he had to lie in it.

Roy slumped his shoulders inward as he walked down the street. It was indeed getting colder. That last gust of wind cut right through him despite his light sweater and jacket. Stuffing his hands deeper into his pockets, the hero quickened his pace.

A bell above the entrance chimed when the red head reached his destination. Roy breathed in deep through his nose and felt his nerves settle slightly as he caught a contact caffeine high from the smell of the freshly brewing pots of coffee and espresso machines behind the barista stand. The small café, which catered mostly to businessmen and women in surrounding buildings and hipster college kids who came because 'mainstream coffee chains were so lame', was bustling from its typical morning rush. Roy groaned internally as he was forced to stand in line, but kept a blank expression on the outside.

Ten minutes later, after a slew of triple non-fats and sugar spiced whatevers, Roy finally made it to the front of the line to place his order. "Hey there! What can I get for you?" A perky blonde, who seemed be taking clear advantage of the free coffee the owners supplied their workers, asked.

"Large coffee, black," He said curtly.

"Would you like that iced?" The blonde asked politely, but Roy shook his head.

"No thank you." _What kind of idiot drinks coffee iced?_ He thought. Coffee was supposed to be hot.

"Will that be all for you?" She asked sweetly as she jotted down his order on the side of a paper cup. Roy gave a sharp nod. The girl glanced up at him through her bangs as she rang up his total on the register, a slight flush rising in her cheeks. The corner of Roy's mouth jutted up a little. Not really in a smirk and not in disgusted, but more of a neutral acknowledgement of her condition. Roy knew he was attractive. He got looks and stares from people in and out of uniform, and had he been a man preoccupied with that he would have been flattered. But he wasn't and he honestly didn't care. Looks weren't important to the job so they weren't important to him.

Paying for his beverage, Roy stepped out of line and to the side bar area where the drinks were put up. The redhead leaned next to the wall by this area and blue eyes surveyed the crowd. Sometimes, when Roy had little bits of down time out like this, he liked to imagine what it would be like to be one of these people. One of the huddle masses, rather than the cluttered few that protected them. To be a civilian instead of just dressing up like one. He sometimes wondered what his life would have been like if his father hadn't died or if he had been taken in by anyone other than Oliver Queen. Would he be standing in this coffee shop waiting for a cup of coffee to take the edge of a long night of studying or partying at college? Would he be on his way to meet other normal, teenage friends? Would he even be here?

"Hey, Red!" Roy snapped out of his musing as a pair of fingers snapped in front of his face, bringing him back to reality. "You deaf or somethin'? Poor kid behind the corner here has been trying to give you your order for the past 5 minutes." Roy's eyes focused in momentarily on the girl in front of him before he turned to the sheepish looking scrawny kid behind the corner with his coffee.

"Oh, sorry," Roy said gruffly, not meaning to sound ungrateful or like a jerk (yet he still seemed to come across that way…often) and took his coffee.

"So you really aren't deaf. That's good, I'd feel kind of bad if I said that and it turned out you were. But then again, if you were deaf you wouldn't hear me call you deaf." The female in front of him gave an odd throaty chuckle at what he assumed was her own joke as she ruffled her short razor cut hair.

"I guess…" Roy said, arching a brow at her as he took his first few gulps of coffee. He wasn't in the mood to socialize. He rarely ever was.

The young woman him gave him a cat like grin, or maybe it was because her eyes were cat shaped that he thought of it that way, and leaned against the protruding bar. "I like your shades. Where'd you get 'em?"

"They were a gift." He said curtly. He really wasn't in the mood for conversation.

Sadly, it seemed, this stranger was. "Hmm, really? I got a pair of sunglasses as a gift once. A cheap pair of knock arounds from a convenience store. Yours look expensive though. I'd say they're real designers. Someone most really like you." She said, propping her chin on her knuckles.

Roy stopped sipping his coffee and looked at her critically. She was right. Being a gift from Ollie, who liked nice things, especially nice things that were expensive; they probably were worth a lot of money. In fact, Roy ventured a guess that if he added up all the clothing he currently had on, from his chucks to his suede jacket, they probably would amount to how much these shades cost. But how did she know that?

Inspecting her critically behind his lenses, Roy didn't think that this was the kind of girl that shopped in expensive boutiques or would know the price of a pair of designer glasses_. _His crime fight instances cataloged her stats methodically. _5'7-5'8, Caucasian, between 18-23, maybe 145, athletic build, short reddish brown hair, small mole on left cheek, brown eyes. Aviators: silver, Leather bomber jacket: black, V-neck: white, denim skirt: tattered, leggings: black, boots: 3 inch heel, for fashion, knee height, two rings on left hand, three on right with bracelet. Average._

She was attractive, Roy could appreciate that, but she looked like any other girl in the shop preparing to start her day with a cup of coffee. And yet, something about her, maybe it was some spark that seemed to lay nestled in those mocha colored eyes or just some air or aura about her that said she was perhaps a little bit to the left of average.

"Umm…grande frappe with an extra shot of espresso on the side?"

"That's me!" The young woman waved her hands a little bit in mock excitement. Roy thinks Wally did that once and called it 'jazz hands'.

The darker redhead took the tiny paper cup filled with espresso and kicked it back like it was a shot of liquor rather than a shot of hot liquid.

"Thanks chief!" She said, flicking the used sample cup back at the rather startled kid behind the counter, before taking her frozen drink with a wink.

"That's probably not good for your health." Roy dead panned, loathe to admit that he was a little impressed that she just took a 75 milligram hit of caffeine to the face like it was nothing. Why was he still here? Talking to this odd stranger?

The other redhead looked over at him from sipping her beverage and smirked. "Living rarely is." She said, causing him to arch a brow. Her smirk broadened and she stepped away from the coffee bar. "I'm Cecil."

Roy stared at her blankly, like he was trying to look through her, to show he hasn't interested in sharing names or swapping stories. She either didn't seem notice or just didn't care.

"You gonna tell me your name or am I just gonna have to keep callin' ya' Red?"

"…Roy." The taller teen supplied begrudgingly. He hated being called Red. Ollie used to call him that all the time. It made him want to grind his teeth.

The darker redhead, whom he now knew was named Cecil, smiled. "Hmm..Roy. Cute name. Reminds me of that actor guy Roy Rodger that they made a drink after." She said off handedly before taking another long swig of frozen treat. "Well, this has been fun, but unfortunately I can't spend all day with you here Roy." The redhead male furrowed his brows in annoyance. She made it sound like **_he_** was the one hindering **_her_**. **_She_**was the one that kept talking to **_him_**.

Turning on her heels, the young woman paused for a second before she made her way to the door. "See yay around Red." She said over her shoulder at him with a wink before flipping her aviators off her head and over her eyes as she walked out the door.

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_All feedback and reviews are welcome please!_


	2. He fell hard

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice (because if I did it would never be cancelled)._**

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After getting his morning jolt of caffeine, Roy walked the couple blocks back to his apartment to lock himself away for the rest of the day like he always did.

Roy lived on the fifth floor of a relatively nice complex in a relatively nice neighborhood mostly populated by young couples starting out and older families that had been there forever. His two bedroom apartment was adequate and always clean with pristine white walls and beige carpeting. It was kind of hard to dirty it up when you weren't there that often and when you were you were trying to sleep. The place was pretty barren too. He had a flat screen TV, a couch and coffee table he picked up from the classifieds, an IKEA table and chair set for his "dining room", and a bed, dresser, bookshelf set from the same company to complete his bedroom furniture. His walls were blank in almost every room, except in the second bedroom turned hero office that was cluttered with gear and media clippings on the walls. The red haired hero didn't really see the point in decorating. He was the only one that was ever there and he didn't mind, so what was the point in wasting money on buying clutter? He liked to keep it basic.

The red head sat on his broken in couch hunched over the coffee table skimming though the days edition of the Shining Star, Star City's local paper*, with the morning news on at a dull hum in the background. He circled portions of stories that could be considered leads for him to later review while scratching out other portions that would be useless to him.

Turning the paper, he came across a story in the nationwide section detailing the heroic feats of the Justice League. Roy glared at the black and white. Hero work wasn't about fame or people knowing who you were, it was about the job and the work you did. Though he knew it was childish, he crossed out the picture with a big 'X' telling himself that it was just because the story wasn't useful to him.

"…In other news, authorities discovered the body of Lawrence Gutwalder in his penthouse apartment yesterday after what appeared to be a rather gruesome end for the millionaire." Roy stopped looking at the Star and grabbed the remote to turn up the volume on the TV, giving it his full attention. "Lawrence Gutwalder, billionaire business tycoon, was found dead in his luxury home above the Star City streets around 11 pm last night after receiving a call from a member of his staff that discovered the 56 year old dead in his living room. Details of the crime and the name of a suspect has not been released this time, but the crime is definitely being considered a homicide." The anchor switched to another story but Roy muted the volume now that he wasn't interested.

_Lawrence Gutwalder is dead?_ Roy knew the name. The man that claimed to be just a mild manner business man was also allegedly the head of the Montoya crime family. He said allegedly because no one could ever prove beyond a doubt that he was the crime family's head, but people like Roy knew the truth.

Lawrence Gutwalder made the bulk of his fortune through extortion, drug trafficking, and prostitution. Despite the man's twisted "professional life", he was also very smart and never dealt directly with any of these businesses that made his this money. If he was ever brought up on charges, he always got away. Roy remembered a time when he and Green Arrow were still working together that they had caught Gutwalder red handed with enough cocaine to cover the entire city of Meteropolis in a fine white powder and he just walked away with a plea of 'wrong place at the wrong time' and a slap on the wrist.

Looking back, Roy thinks that may have been the point when he had been so embittered by the job. The justice system had failed him. What good was he if he brought criminals to justice and they still just got away?

The past was neither here nor there though. What mattered right now was that Lawrence Gutwalder was dead and the question was how. _That place is a fortress! How could anyone get past their security?!_ Roy switched on the light to his 'office'. Opening one of the drawers at his desk, Roy skimmed the tops of several folders before he found the one he was looking for. A copy of the layout of Gutwalder's security.

He had gotten the information from his 'day job', a freelance body guard for a private security firm known as Vaga Securities. He had taken the job because 1) he need the money to help pay bills (he couldn't live off the trust fund Ollie had set up for him forever, no matter how large it may be) and 2) it was also the largest private security provider to the underground worldwide. Despite Roy age, they had hired him on the spot. When you have a rather impressive resume of defensive, martial art skills, a fake background, and a personal recommendation from Oliver Queen, they were bound to hire you.

In his short time there, Roy had taken the liberty of acquiring a few files from his bosses computer that provided him more than enough information to infiltrate numerous, notorious criminals should he ever need the information, like when he had to rescue Dr. Roquette from the Shadows.

Roy's thoughts immediately went to the idea of Shadows being the culprit. Lawrence was small fish in comparison, but maybe he had pissed off the wrong people? Looking over the file of Gutwalder's security, he had at least 15 body guards privately leased on his staff. Paranoia, Roy assumed, but cross referencing the people on the list with the database he had complied on his computer it would take someone at the top of their game to get past them all and actually murder the crime boss. Let alone in his own house.

Roy decided that he would need to do a more in-depth investigation. Draining the last bit of his now cold coffee, he went to go change.

* * *

It wasn't hard for Roy to get past the yellow tape of the Star City police force when he was wearing one of their uniforms.

Several years ago Roy had…"acquired" a standard issue Star City beat cop uniform when he and Green Arrow still worked together. It had come in handy several times, especially times like these, when he needed to blend into the crowd more than make a big splash with his **_real _**uniform. Until he was sure that this was a crime 'worthy' to warrant Red Arrow he would just investigate as Roy Harper, currently a fresh out of the academy grad.

"Excuse me, who's in charge here?" He asked a group of officers standing around by the door, looking more like they were wasting tax payer money than examining a crime scene.

"And who are you?" A man in his mid-thirties barked back. His tone suggested that he didn't like Roy's one bit. The red head's voice always seemed to hold this commanding tone of authority that most assumed was unwarranted of a young man his age. Especially by an aging beat cop who had been on the street for far too long to be talked down to by some 'punk'.

"Name's Tony. I was just told by headquarter to come down and help the lead detective on this. Do you know where he is or not?"

The older man sneered and gave a gruff scoffed in his general direction. "You better watch that _attitude _of yours kid. That mouth of yours might end up writin' a check for you your ass can't cash." The balding man warned. "Detective Sans is over there. Cheap beige suit, looks about a hundred and eighty, you can't miss him."

"Thanks," Roy said curtly and moved passed them while ignoring his grumble about kids and no respect.

Roy found the man he was looking for in what used to be Lawrence Gutwalder's living room. The middle of the room was a wreck. From what it appeared, Gutwalder must have fallen from the second story banister on to his very nice glass coffee table. His expensive white carpet ruined with dried blood that had seeped deep into the plush flooring and out past the white sheet that covered his body. Roy couldn't see him yet, but he was pretty sure Gutwalder was a wreck.

"Who are you?" Detective Sans asked when Roy stepped into his line of vision while avoiding unnecessary disruption of the crime scene.

"Tony, sir. HQ sent me to help out."

"You fresh out of the academy?" The grizzled detective asked and Roy gave a curt nod. The older man scoffed before rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Geeze, I ask for help on this and they send me school boys. Well, I wish I could say that things like this don't happen often, but they do. Only reason everyone's makin' a big stink now is 'cause this guy's got deep enough pockets for people to actually give a damn." He added, before lifting up a corner of the coroner's sheet to take a look at the body. "Shooo-ee! Poor bastard must have taken a swan dive right into this thing." The senior detective said with a sickening grimace at the corpse that lay chest deep in the shatter glass pile and frame that used to be a coffee table.

"Through it would appear that way, I'm not one hundred percent sure that Mr. Gutwalder's dead was accidental." The coroner said, adjusting his wire rimmed glasses slightly before taking the sheet and pulling it further back. "He has some odd bruising on various places on his body. They're few, but they're size is of relatively the same size and in various place on the body."

_Pressure point manipulation, _Roy thought recognizing the location of most of the bruises on Gutwalder's body.

"This bruising pattern near the right ear seems to be the oldest of them and suggests a fracture in the atlas or the vertebrae that connects the spine with the skull. Judging by the color and rate of spreading I'd say it was definitely done pre-mortem like the rest of them."

"The perp broke his neck." Roy spoke up evenly and the two older men looked at him like a dog had just spoke.

"Well, yes. However, just by a preliminary diagnosis I'd say that the fracture wasn't enough to kill him." The doctor said "It's a fairly small break, probably caused a sharp blow to this corner of the neck. He would have lived, but the fracture to such a major vertebrae probably left him paralyzed."

_So unable to move or fight back, the perp used Gutwalder's own body to cause him severe pain before throwing him off the banister. This guy is cold._

"So someone threw good ole' Mr. Gutwalder onto his very nice coffee table?" Detective Sans said and the coroner just shrugged.

"It's a possibility but it's not my job to speculate such things. It's yours. And I won't have a definitive cause of death until after I do a proper autopsy." The doctor recovered the body and stepped back as a stretcher was brought in to carry the body away for just that.

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_Not so many reviews but lots of hits so I'm glad people are reading the story. I hope everyone is enjoying it so far! All feedback and reviews are welcome please!_

_*-I don't know if that's actually the papers name so I call the "artistic liberty" card._


	3. A bull in a coffee shop

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice (because if I did it would never be cancelled)._**

* * *

The next day Roy sits quietly alone in a diner across town. They served good breakfast here. And he was now with a growing lack of food as well as coffee in his apartment he figured he might as well go out. He also liked it because he was never bothered by anyone when he came around here. All the other customers were mostly night-shifter or early risers. People too tired to be up for chatter or too into themselves to make small talk with their neighbor.

The redheaded superhero sipped his coffee as he scanned over the file of information that he had collected on the Gutwalder case.

Since his visit to the penthouse a few days ago, he had done some checking and found a slight problem with the pin entries.

Every number was issued to a name except one. 7767 was a number that seemed to belong to no one, but came up frequently. He didn't know what it was for but given the time of its entry and departure, 7767 was his best bet on the killer. He would have to check around to get a name or something but nothing a little more digging couldn't correct.

"Hey there Red," Roy looked up from his papers to see the long, tall form of the girl from yesterday standing by his table with a faint smile. "I thought that was you."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Roy didn't really have to ask. He remembered her. He had a photographic memory for people trained for years by his profession. However, he hoped that the indifference of his stare and seeming lack of interest in her to not even remember her name would put her off and she's go away.

"Cecil. We met the other day. The loud chick from the coffee shop a few blocks over caused a big scene." She said, leaning her arm on the adjacent booth seat in a nonchalant manner.

"I don't remember you making a scene."

"Ah, but you do remember me enough to remember I didn't make a scene." She pointed out, literally, and laughed quietly as she replaced her hand on her hip.

_Damnit._ "Did you need something?" Roy asked, finally looking back up from his papers at her. She looked cute, with her hair a little mussed from the wind outside and that smirk on her face. But Roy didn't like the air of superiority she exuded or the cockiness of her smile. Something about her that said 'look at me I'm different' even when she wasn't doing anything. He didn't like it. Plus, he was busy and wasn't in the mood for chats with strangers.

Cecil's casual smile faltered slightly. "Nothing, I just wanted to say hi."

"Well, I'm really busy. So if you could just…you know, go away...I would really appreciate it."

Roy's stare is blank and he showed no remorse for what he just said. Why should he? It was the truth. He was busy and didn't want to talk to her. He always thought blunt was best.

Cecil nose crinkled and the corner of her mouth turned up in a sneer like a bad taste has just entered her mouth. The delightful spark in her eyes that made them look like jasper stones was quickly snuffed out, turning them into just plain brown with a hard, serious look about them. "Wow…and here I thought you were a nice guy. No wonder you're always by yourself." Her voice is stiff and flat now, and her eye give him a quick once over like he's nothing special before she turns and leaves without a second thought.

Roy watches her go and then leans heavy against the seat after she's out.

He felt…bad. After all, maybe she was only trying to be nice and he treated her like she was just some flippant waste of space. It was rude, purposefully rude.

_'Always treat a woman with respect, even if they're a pain in the ass.'_

Roy growled low in his throat and conceded defeat to his inner Ollie as the older man's voice rang out between his ears.

"Hey wait!" Cecil stopped and turned slightly towards Roy as he jogged up to her. He stopped a few feet from her, not wanting to get too close (in case she hit him and he had bubble issues) but still close enough to initiate conversation, "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude." Roy was never good at apologies. He didn't do them often.

"Yeah you did. Don't insult me by saying you didn't when you knew what you were doing." She accused, but sounded like she didn't care either way what he did or wanted. Her face said it too. That flat, expressionless look made him feel like she thought of him as insignificant.

Roy sighed.

"Yeah, ok, I did. But I'm sorry alright. I've just been…stressed at work..or something. Let me…buy you a cup of coffee or something."

The darker red head arched a delicate brow at him before a faint scoff left her forced smirk and replied calmly, "I don't think so." And she turned on her heels to walk away.

"Come on….please." Roy said after her. She did stop again but didn't turn around. "I just…I'm not good at this stuff alright. And I…feel bad." He confessed with the last bit mumbled. She made no move to turn around he was about to say to hell with it and go back inside. It was cold and he left his jacket in the diner. _Who needs this anyway?_

"Would that or something be pancakes if I wanted?"

Roy stopped himself from turning around and Cecil looked over her shoulder at him questioningly. Roy sighed lightly but nodded.

Cecil smiled faintly and turned around to face him before she started walking back into the diner, not waiting for Roy at all or sparing him a glance. He huffed and followed.

The redheads took their respective seats back at Roy's table. Cecil unbuttoned her black pea-coat and tossed it into the booth before sliding in after it. Roy took his spot back and picked up his work to keep it from wandering eyes. Each in their own booth looking at anything but each other as an awkward silence filled the air. A veteran waitress came over to ask if her new customer wanted anything. She did not order pancakes but asked for coffee when she found out there were no free refills on hot tea. Roy held up his cup signally that he wanted fresh coffee. Then the awkward silence returned in a thick sheet over the booth. The coffees came, the waitress left, and the awkwardness returned.

"Did you know that Emus and Kangaroos can't walk backwards?"

Roy's face whips back towards his breakfast mate with a perplexed look. "What?"

"Kangaroos and Emus can't walk backwards. Some scholars speculate that it's because of their leg shape, but there isn't any proof of this being 100% true or false. It's just a coincidence that animals that can't walk backwards also rhyme and from Australia. Also, sharks can't swim backwards." Cecil elaborated calmly and with a completely straight, blank face. Her hands clasped in front of her on the table and back straight as if it were lecture.

Roy just stared back at her confused and with that same awkward perplexed expression. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Whenever there's an awkward silence I always fill the need to say something, but never know what. So I started saying useless random facts that I've collected in my brain over the years as an icebreaker. Did you know that in Japan they have square watermelons?"

"Couldn't you just say something about the weather or…wait, what?"

"That's boring. And to be honest I give zero fucks about the weather and anything similar to that is boring to me. And yes, in Japan farmers have genetically engineered watermelons and other fruits to be square for easier shipping and space. You can buy one for 10,000 yen." Cecil responded; face still flat and blank of expression as she spouted off this odd fact about Japanese horticulture.

Roy arched a brow. "Why do you know all this stuff?"

"I spend a lot of time alone and on the internet." She responded. "Whatca' readin'?" The female redhead tilted her chin at the file under Roy's arm. He pulls it further away and into the booth seat.

"Just some things for work."

"Is it top secret?"

"Sort of"

"Why read it in a diner then?"

"Because my apartment has no food."

It was completely honest, which is why Roy could say it with such a straight face, but still Cecil laughed like it was a joke and a very funny one at that.

"Oh man, boys. How did you get to the point that you have no food in your house? Wouldn't that be something you'd notice _before _it got to that point?" She asked, changing her position to rest her elbows and weight on the table instead of just her hands. The air around her becoming more casual and open and that smirking smile returning to her face.

"I work a lot of weird hours for my job. Everything else takes a back seat."

"Even eating?" Cecil asked with her brow arched. Roy shrugged.

"It's not intentional. I just rarely have time to get to the store until I absolutely have to."

"What do you do?" She asked, taking a sip of her coffee.

"Private security" Roy replied, use to the cover front he used to explain his real profession.

Cecil gave an impressed hum into her coffee cup before she sat it back down. "Wow, that's impressive for someone so young."

"I'm 20." Roy said, eyes narrowed and obviously a little miffed.

Okay, yes 20 was still maybe young for some people. And yes, he had only recently turned 20 in the past month. But still, the reminder that he was young still stung the archer to the bone. The word young was associated with so many words that he had also come to hate over the past year and a half. Words like young, inexperienced, childish, unworthy. Being young was something Roy was desperately trying to get away from, but he could only get away from the hands of time so fast.

"Wow, really? Me too! My birthday is in April. When's yours?" Cecil asked, that spark coming back to her eyes now.

"March"

Cecil arched a brow at him. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, I think I would know my own birthday." Roy responded. But the other redhead narrowed her eyes calculatingly and stared deep into his blue eyes with a steely gaze.

"Are you suuuurrree?" She asked again, that penetrating stare still locked on to him, her body shifting further on to her elbows as she lean forward causing Roy to subconsciously move back in his own seat.

The 'standoff' continued for a moment before Roy muttered, "October" begrudgingly. He hated giving out personal facts. Or at least personal facts that were actually honest. He wasn't sure how she knew he lied. He had no ticks. He had trained himself to steel even his micro expressions not to give himself away. And yet she knew. And that unsettled him.

Victory achieved, Cecil smiled and sat back in her seat again. "October hn? I bet you're near the end of October right?"

"How did you know that?" Roy asked defensive. He now he had a growing concern that she was a spy or an assassin sent after him. The League of Shadows could have found out his identity and planned to kill him. Or infiltrate his work as Red Arrow. Cheshire seemed to have an odd fascination with him. So many bad scenarios went through Roy's head in the milliseconds it took her to respond.

"Because judging by what you've told me you definitely have the personality of a Scorpio. Determined, self-reliant, tenacious and secretive, and given that you have your own apartment, a very serious and obviously well-paying job, as well as being very self-sufficient and kind of a loner. It was an easy guess."

Roy's defensiveness and anxiety deflated slightly. Seeing that he was obviously over reacting and none of the scenarios in his head had been that it was a simple guess or misunderstanding. "Star signs? I never bought into that."

"Astrology is actually a very exact science and accurate in most cases with people. For instance, aside from you, I'm a Taurus. The Taurus sign is associated with perseverance, stability, and easy going."

"Taurus hn? Isn't that the one with the bull? Doesn't that make you stubborn?" Roy asked, sitting his mug back down on the counter. Cecil glared at him a little.

"Yes, I can at times be stubborn….like the bull."

"Like when you don't leave people alone when they are obviously busy?" Roy interjected with the faintest of smirks, and Cecil's glare intensified.

"Hey, you were the one that invited me back. If you want me to leave I can just go." She said sitting all the way back in her seat, signally a lack of openness now as well as defensiveness.

"No, no. I'm…sorry. Let's just…change the subject. How long have you been in Star City?" Roy asked. He wasn't one that was big on small talk. In fact, he hated it most of the time. But he didn't want to upset her anymore, though not really sure why, maybe subconsciously he was tired of alienating everyone. Also, it would give him an opportunity to learn more about this mysterious woman that popped up out of nowhere and level the playing feild.

Cecil's shield came down just a little. "I moved here about a month ago."

"What for? College, work?" Roy asked.

"No reason in particular."

"You moved to a whole new city just because?" Roy asked, thinking that that was odd.

Cecil smiled slightly and shrugged. "What can I say? The town grew on me. Besides, I had nowhere else to really go or stop me. And the old gig was getting too me."

"Old gig?"

"The place, the people, the job," Cecil drowned in a sullen way while tracing the rim of her coffee cup.

"What kind of work did you do?"

"Odd jobs mostly. A little of this a little of that," Cecil told him, polishing off her coffee.

"That's pretty vague." Roy stated and Cecil just shrugged again.

"So does private security, but you don't hear me complaining." She said with a faint chuckle. Roy didn't respond. "So what about you? How long have you been in lovely Star City?"

"Almost all my life" He said.

"Almost? Where were you before?"

"Where were you before at your old gig?" Roy retorted.

"Touché I guess." Cecil relented, and casually scratched her bare collarbone that her off the shoulder sweater left exposed. "Hey, what's your favorite color?"

"Why do you want to know that?" Roy asked in confusion at the rather odd question.

"Because I can feel the awkward silence creeping in again and I want to add a new fact to my collection." The auburn woman said with a smile. Roy blinked at her in a slightly stunned expression.

"It's red."

"Red hn? Did you know that the color red makes your heart beat faster? Maybe that's why redheads are so sexy." Cecil winked at the other redhead and Roy looked down teeth clenched as he felt a wave of heat fill his cheeks unwanted. "Hey listen, I gotta go but…this was...nice." Cecil slid out of the booth and grabbed her pea-coat. "Thanks for the cup of coffee Roy." She added as she swung her coat on.

"Yeah, no problem." Roy said, not agreeing but not disagreeing that this hadn't been so bad.

"Hey, do you have a phone on ya'?" Cecil asked casually and Roy blinked up at her in surprise at the request.

"Um…yeah sure." He pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to her. He thought maybe she had forgotten her phone or maybe didn't have one and needed to call someone or a cab. And ever the hero he wanted to help

The more sociable redhead took the offered phone and typed in the desired number into the keypad. "Who are you calling?" Roy felt the need to ask.

"Myself," She replied and just as she did a rock-esque ringtone emitted from her jacket pocket. She pulled it out and cancelled the call before handing Roy back his own phone. "Now you have my number if you want to ever have awkward coffee again." Cecil told him with a bright smile as she stuffed her hands into her coat pockets.

Roy didn't know what to say. He just looked at his phone, then her, then at his phone again. "I'll just let you get back to work then." Cecil said, seeing no response coming. "Make sure you buy you some food Red." She said over her shoulder and exited the diner into the masses of the city.

* * *

_Special thanks to NinjaChipmunk, persevera, ShadedRogue, and Galvantula866 for their reviews and all those that faved last time!_

_ I still hope everyone is enjoying it so far. As always all feedback and reviews are welcome please!_


	4. Money can't buy happiness

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice (because if I did it would never be cancelled)._**

* * *

"Yes?"

"Hello ma'am. I'm with the Star City Police Department. I'm here to ask Mrs. Gutwalder a few questions." Roy's face and voice are flat and stern as always as he flashes a maid his fake badge.

Roy had hit a dead end with his findings. He had spent the better part of his patrol last night breaking into the luxury apartment building Gutwalder lived in downloading security tapes to go with his logs. The building was owned and operated by a real estate firm that catered to residence that required the most… discrete of housing, as the building head manager had described. Roy knew this was a code word for 'people who would prefer their crazy, kinky, and/or illegal activity to go undetected'. Therefore, the only real concrete security the building had was in the main entrance lobby. But then again, who would have thought that with all the other security measures the building had like pin codes, check-ins, along with most of the residence private staff they would need more than they had.

It would take someone on par with Batman to sneak into a place like that undetected. And the thought of that kind of skill being used for evil chilled Roy to the bone.

The short, pudgy maid nods and ushers the redheaded hero inside.

Roy follows her through the lavish halls of the Gutwalder house. It was all vaulted ceilings, marble floors, and expensive knick-knacks everywhere. Roy suppresses the urge to sneer as he thought about all the blood money, greed, and crime that had gone into making this place into such an ivory tower.

"Mrs. Gutwalder, someone from the police department would like a word with you." The maid says from the entrance way of a lavish sitting room.

"Send him in."

The maid nods once and extends her arm to show Roy in. The redhead nods and mumbles a thank you before stepping in.

An older woman in her mid-fifties is sitting there, drinking tea served to her by a maid from an English silver set into a bone china tea cup with gold trim. Her faded platinum hair was pulled back in a tight, exact bun and her black couture dress probably cost more than his monthly rent. Roy knew she was Mrs. Gutwalder. Her face had been in the paper enough, standing next to her husband at his trails, for him to know it was her.

Everything about her screamed money. The house, this room, her clothes, her tea set, it all screamed money. But despite her specular surroundings, the woman's nose and corners of her mouth seemed to hold a constant wrinkle of distaste. Like her bitterness had actually formed a sick taste in the back of her throat for quite some time. And, despite plastic surgery and Botox, she still looked aged and haggard as a woman scorned with just a hint of sadness on her face. The sadness wasn't for her dead husband though, but for herself. Lawrence had never spared her a sympathetic thought all through their marriage, why should she do so for him.

"Good afternoon Mrs. Gutwalder." Roy greeted, offering his hand as polite protocol for people like her.

"Please, call me Cynthia. The honorific of Mrs. seems a bit mute at this point." The widow replies, offering her own hand in a delicate, traditionally feminine hand shake. "Would you like some tea Mr.…..?"

"Johnson and no thank you ma'am," Roy responds with one of his many aliases.

Cynthia nodded and waved her maid away after she handed her the expensive tea cup to be refilled.

"A detective came by yesterday to question me. Don't you people talk to each other?" The older woman asked, blowing carefully on the hot beverage before taking her first sip.

"We just like to double check our facts ma'am." Roy lied to her. "Now, how long were you and your husband married?"

"Legally, 20 years this June. Realistically, the marriage hadn't lasted past the first 5."

"So your marriage had problems?"

"Doesn't every marriage?" The blonde replied, taking another sip of her china tea cup. "The problem with our marriage was that it was all a lie. Lawrence and I married out of obligation and propriety. Not the greatest foundation for a blissful union I assure you." Cynthia elaborated as she sat her fine china cup back on the antique mahogany coffee table. "Are you going to ask if I killed him?"

"It would make my job a lot easier if you did confess." Roy told her. Cynthia gave a quiet dark chuckle as she leaned back in her seat.

"I didn't kill my husband. Nor did I hire someone to kill him if that's your next question. Though my feelings for Lawrence shifted between ambivalent and disgusted, he was worth more to me alive than dead."

"Disgust? Why were you disgusted with him?" Roy asks and Cynthia gave another bitter chuckle.

"Oh…let's see. He was a philander, a drunk, the occasional drug addict, an abuser of all trades, and of course his day to day activities were enough to make your skin crawl."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"You know I can't detective. Marital confidentiality still applies even though my husband is dead." Cynthia said. "Though it's no secret to someone of your profession of what my husband really did. You all just could never prove it." She continued, retrieving her cup again.

"So drug running, prostitution, murder, and all that jazz." Roy surmised and Cynthia tapped the tip of her nose to signal that he was dead on. "Do you think that's what got him killed?"

"Probably, but who knows. My husband had my enemies not just in his _business_ but elsewhere too. One of his rivals could have killed him or someone on the street. Lawrence had that special gift of rubbing everyone the wrong way." Cynthia told him casually, her distant evident.

"I just have one more question. Your husband's penthouse was pin key access only. Everyone in his life was issued a pin, even you despite being estranged."

"Well, someone had to check on him from time to time." She interjected over the rim of her cup.

"But there was one number that wasn't assigned to anyone but came up quite a bit in the log. It was even the last number to appear before his death. I was wondering if you could perhaps shed some light on it."

Roy hands her a folded piece of paper with the unknown pin on it who reads it and laughs.

"7767 spells out PROS in the key pad. It's the number Lawrence gave his prostitutes."

She handed him back the piece of paper and went back to sipping her tea casually.

"Oh…thank you ma'am." Roy said, her causal tone seeming far too out of place for the sentence.

"I don't really know how much help it will be. I'm sure more than half of the working girls in Star City and beyond have that number."

"Alright, thank you ma'am." Roy repeated, finding this to be a dead end and preparing himself to leave.

"Oh, and detective" Roy stopped in the entrance way and looked back at the widow Gutwalder who said over his shoulder to him, "When you find out who killed my husband, please do give me a call. I want to shake their hand. The world is a much better place without someone like him in it." Cynthia said, her tone saying more about her hatred for her husband than mere words ever could.

Roy said nothing, but quietly shared her sentiment, and left the Gutwalder estate.

* * *

On the road out of the polished, gated suburbs back into the city Roy contemplates the details of the case so far as his bike caresses the smooth curves of the black asphalt streets.

Lawrence Gutwalder was dead and the last person to have access to his home was someone who had a key code for a working girl. The killer could be a woman? But based on Mrs. Gutwalder's statement it still wasn't safe to assume one way or the other since apparently it was the worst kept secret of the crime family line. Perhaps another crime family sent the girl to Gutwalder's penthouse to him as bait? Maybe embarrass him a little by 'catching him with his pants down' before he was murdered?

Roy's brow furrows as the visor of his helmet flashes with the notification of a new text message. The redhead frowns, thinking that it's Oliver or Wally since they were the only ones that texted him instead of called (less likely chance of being ignored if they called). He debates ignoring it but the thought of it being Oliver asking for his help brings his hand to the side of his helmet to call up the message to the screen of his visor. It's not Oliver.

_:Hey there Red:_

Roy's back teeth press tightly together. He does _not_ like to be called 'Red'. He also does not like that this Cecil is texting him. He deleted her from his phone, but knows it's her since she's the only one who seems stupid enough to keep calling him 'Red' despite his warning and glare.

"Stop calling me that." When he speaks the words are translated into text to be returned. It's short and abrupt. And he hopes that it's off putting enough to get her to leave him alone.

Judging by the blinking of a new message apparently it's not.

_:Red? But that's my nickname for you. I like it.:_

Roy's eyes narrow at the text on the screen in a mixture of confusion and irritation. Nickname? What kind of girl was this? Acting like they were old friends when they had only run into each other twice.

Roy decides now is a good a time as any to set her straight. "Well I don't. And we aren't on nickname terms."

His text-message-tone is getting harsher. Or at least he hopes it is. But still, it seems to be not enough.

_:Ok. So what terms are we on then Roy? (See it's just not the same):_

"None!" Roy barks back harshly and before he can stop it the message is sent. Out into the universe it goes with no way to come back.

The superhero grumbles in time with his bike's engine. He hadn't meant to be so…harsh…again. He just didn't want to talk to her. Did she have to be so persistent? Couldn't she take a hint?"

_"Yeah, screw her for trying to be nice and friendly since she's new in town."_

Roy frowns deeply as Wally's voice speaks to him in that sarcastic, condescending 'I-can-think-faster-than-you' way.

_'Maybe Ollie is right and I am a bastard.'_

Green Arrow had never said that to him, never ever. But Roy thinks that he thinks now a days. Or sort of hopes he does, like it justifies him to act the way he does if his mentor feels that way about him.

But Roy knows that Ollie doesn't think he's a bastard. He thinks he's a good guy.

"You wanna get a coffee?"

* * *

_No new reviews. That's kind of sad :/. I'd really like to know who everyone is feeling about the story so far and the characters, etc etc. Please review!_


	5. Coffee Break

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice (because if I did it would never be cancelled)._**

* * *

"You seem uneasy."

Roy looks up from the mahogany colored table not realizing that he had zoned out, judging by his companion's expression, for quite a while. "Am I really that repulsive to be around?"

The archer shakes his head. "It's not that. I just don't usually do this."

"Sit in a cafe and watch squirrels fornicate by that tree over there?" Cecil points out the window in 'see! See right there!' manner but doesn't look there herself.

"Hang out with people." Roy confessed, glancing around the coffee shop he first met Cecil in a few days ago and musing again on what it would be like to be one of them instead on him for a brief moment.

The woman in question seems taken aback slightly. "How come? You seem like a nice enough guy…sort of. I mean, when you're not being completely rude. But then again I don't know you all that well, or at all really, so maybe that's how you are most of the time." She gives casual shrug she seem accustomed to after she's done talking and takes large gulp of her double espresso mocha something. Roy hadn't really been paying attention, but he's pretty sure that much caffeine and sugar in one sitting could cause a heart attack in a small goat.

"You know you just turned a sort of compliment into a total insult there right." Roy replies with a slight narrowing of his eyes, but Cecil just smirks and shrugs again.

"It's a gift." She replies while twirling a dark cherry lock as if she had some kind of superiority.

"But on the subject, why did you contact me? Like you said, you don't know me. And why did you agree to meet with me? I could be anyone." Roy asks seriously. His hero sense always told him to expect the worst. Yes, he told her he could be anyone. But so could she.

"What? You mean like a serial killer or rapist or something?"

Roy is a little startled by how casual those words leave her mouth just as the rest of her bagel goes in.

"Well no, but I-"So are you?" Cecil interrupts left cheek puffy with chewed bagel.

"Am I what?" Roy asks, surprised he's not more disgusted. But then again, compared to Wally, she has the etiquette of a lady of Winsor.

"A stalker rapist serial killer?"

"Of course not!" The redheaded hero snaps.

But the outburst doesn't seem to bother the other as she shrugs and mutters, "Ok."

"Ok?"

"Yeah, ok. I'll take your word for it."

Roy blinks and ponders the thought curiously _'Just like that?'_

"You just trust someone just like that?"

"No, but I'm usually a really good judge of character. And besides, what would the bases of our new found relationship be if I didn't trust you."

"Relationship?" Roy queries and something about that must have been funny because Cecil is laughing.

"Relax. I have no delusional fantasy that we're dating. You would probably make a terrible boyfriend anyway. Though I wouldn't mind going a few rounds with you in the sheets. You look like you could go for a while. One of those 'what you lack in technique you make up in stamina types'."

The hero blinks for a few seconds, feeling his face threatening to heat up but he refuses to let it. "Are you serious right now?"

The grin on her face is infuriating. "No. It's more of a test to see how uncomfortable I can make you before you freak out. You've lasted longer than most."

Roy frowns. Not liking to be tested or made fun of. "You're very…odd."

"No, I'm very honest and open about what I'm thinking." Cecil corrects dully. "I just appear odd because I'm not repressed and confined to the demands of society. It's actually quite liberating. You should try it some time."

Roy scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'll get right on that." He says before sipping his coffee.

"Why not?"

"Rules and parameters are placed on society to maintain order. Breaking them throws the whole system into chaos."

Apparently that's funny to here too. "I'm not talking about stealing a car or robbing a bank. I'm talking about saying what's on your mind without fear of being 'publicly correct' or worried about what the 'right' thing to say is." Roy looks up at her for a second and that seems to give Cecil some sort of signal to keep going. "Like, okay, say the first thing that comes to your mind right now."

"What do you-"No! You're thinking! Don't think just go!" Cecil interrupts quickly, catching Roy by surprise.

"But I-"No!"

"Can I just-"Still thinking!"

"God your annoying do you ever shut up!"

The café chatter grinds to a halt at the young hero's shout and his face runs almost as dark as Cecil's hair, who seems very pleased.

"There you go! And the world didn't end."

"I'm sorry I said that." Roy apologies towards his cup.

"Are you really sorry?" Cecil asks with a questioning eye and Roy mutters, "Partially."

"Then apology partially accepted." She beams and Roy's taken aback by the light in her smile and the casual way she'd just ended a dispute just like that. No argument, no grudge, it's just done and she's moved them past it.

She's moved on to something else but Roy misses after of it as she talks into her cup, having taken the lid off to get every last drop of sugary drink down before she deems it finished.

"Here let me." Roy says, taking the empty cup from here and the gesture seeming to surprise her more than he thought it would.

"Well, aren't we the gentleman all of the sudden."

"I have to go to the bathroom." Roy corrects her, taking the cup near the lid.

He sits the cups on top of the trash bin and pretends to check his watch while pressing a few buttons it. The watch beeps a few times before a scanning ray fires out, scanning the outside of Cecil's cup for finger prints. The device chirps when it completes the scan and he tosses the cup heads for the restroom.

Once inside the single person bathroom, Roy locks the door and lifts the face of his watch. A few taps and a holographic screen pops up with his information.

"97% match. Cecil Clayborne, born April 23rd, age 20. Birthplace: Seattle Washington. Relatives: John and Marie Calyborne, Deceased. Tyler, Issac, and Jessica Clayborne, Siblings, Deceased. No known aliases or criminal record." A feminine computer voice recites.

There's information linking to a police report about a car crash that killed John and then a fire several years later that killed the others. It seems Cecil was the only one to survive her families' destruction. She was deemed a ward of the state until she was accepted by scholarship to Westwood Academy. Roy had heard about it. It was apparently a school for the gifted.

"Oh man…." Roy groans leaning against the bathroom door. He suddenly feels like a real heel. It seems she was just someone who was trying to make friends in a new city. And how did he treat her?

Ollie had told him for many years that he needed to not be so suspicious of people, and sometimes you had to give them the benefit of the doubt.

It had never really sunk in.

"Hey, you ok? You were in there for a minute." Cecil asks curiously up at him when Roy reappears at the table.

"Yeah I'm fine." He says calmly, but his mind wonders while he speaks. He thinks about what she had to go through, first the eldest of a single parent household of four and then no parents and siblings at all. He thinks about what she had to do to get by, what brought her here. Roy had been too young to remember his parents and he had been lucky enough to have Ollie. "You wanna get out of here?"

"And go back to my place for that earlier suggestion I made? Yes."

Roy flusters for a second, and he can tell that was her intended reaction, so he quickly shuts off his expressions before scolding her. "You shouldn't talk like that. Chances are you're going to say it to the wrong person and get attacked."

But the warning doesn't seem to bother Cecil as she literally waves him off and says, "I can take care of myself."

The pair head out of the café to go their separate ways, but just as they're about to exit Roy catches sight of the day's paper and halts.

"Something wrong?" Cecil asks, snapping Roy out of his freeze.

"Hn? Oh, no. Just saw that the Gotham Knights* lost to the Metropolis Meteors last night." Roy replies off handedly, while holding open the door.

The comment prompts Cecil to start talking about football and branches out to other topics that somehow relate in her mind, but Roy isn't really paying attention.

What had really caught his eye was the main headline: _'Another murder in Star City Society'._

* * *

_Sooo sorry for the delay in updating (and the sort of sad excuse for an update with this chapter :/). Better more interesting chapters are coming soon (this was more of a stepping stone). Special thanks to persevera, Green Phantom Queen, Revolving Dragunov, and Edhla for their reviews and all those that faved/followed. All reviews are appreciated and welcomed!_

_*-The Gotham Knights and the Metropolis Meteors are 'real' football team in the DC universe. The Kinghts are the original name, not the Rouges like in 'The Dark Kinght'. Boom!  
_


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